Once Upon a Time
by Piccylo
Summary: Sturm begins to sing a story in Solamnic, Flint thinks he's a sofa, Tasslehoff is dying of laughter, and Raistlin's off looking for spell components. Poor, poor Tanis. As if fighting draconians wasn't bad enough.


Disclaimer: Dragonlance, more or less, belongs to Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis… at least the important parts. Though WotC clutch on to it like it's their "precious". "Once Upon a Time" (and, by extention, Sofa No. 1 and Sofa No. 2) is from Frank Zappa and the Mother's of Invention. As far as I know, it only appears on one of the many, many live albums. Some references to alcohol and _big_ references to drug use.

Reading Dragonlance whilst listening to Frank Zappa does crazy stuff to you. But I had to use a bit of creativity on the Solamnic (originally in the song as German), though I used a lot of Latin (since Solamnic has lots of Latin in it). Have fun, as it'll likely confuse the lot of you to the Abyss and back. This isn't necessarily a "songfic", per say, since "Once Upon a Time" isn't really a song.

* * *

The companions huddled around the campfire, feeling the autumn night reach to them through the warm glow of the fire. They said little as they sat. The only one not among them at the moment was the mage Raistlin. He was collecting spell components, saying that his personal supply was unusually low and in dire need of restocking. 

The others said little. Even Tasslehoff seemed subdued, though he glanced eagerly around his friends, hoping that one might say something. Goldmoon and Riverwind took this moment to speak in low tones together, not letting their words reach a volume louder than the crackling of the fire. Tanis, weary from being suddenly thrust into being leader again, relished in the silence and settled his head on his knees, allowing his mind to wonder.

"Once upon a time," Sturm said suddenly, bolting straight into standing from sitting in front of the campfire. The motion itself was enough to startle the others. Sturm didn't seem to notice and continued undaunted, "Way back a long time ago… when the universe consisted of nothing more elaborate than"—he paused—"Flint Firefudge."

Tasslehoff Burrfoot began to giggle ecstatically while some of the others exchanged amused glances. The old dwarf was likely going to be grumpily complaining for the next hour on the double insult on his age and name.

Flint, however, didn't seem all that upset by the playful jab, even standing with Sturm and grinning back at the knight. "Oh, thank you Sturm… and make sure that you don't misspeak that: that's not Flint Firefudge, that's Flint Fireforge." Tas giggled even louder while Tanis covered his face with his hand, laughing and thinking to himself that his old friend must have had a little much brandy earlier.

"Heya, friends," Flint continued, not paying mind to those laughing, "I wanna welcome every one of you"—he gestured to Riverwind and Goldmoon—"and I want to say to you tonight I feel great. I mean, I feel _great_. Everywhere I go, people are always coming up to me and they say, 'Flint? Flint. Flint? Flint FlintFlintFlintFlint. Flint? Are you kidding? That doorknob of a kender does that the most. But let me tell you this, friends: I am _not_ kidding. I mean, I am _portly_, and I am _maroon_. Well, how many people here tonight can guess what I am?"

_Drunk off your gourd,_ Tanis quickly remarked mentally. But, to his surprise, Sturm and Caramon had gotten into the act.

Sturm scratched his head and made a moan of indecision. "Uhhh…"

Caramon looked at the dwarf dully. "I can't guess what you are."

"Well, then I'll give you some clues…" Flint continued the game. "And the first clue is: _I am portly_. Does that help?"

"Not much," Sturm said with a grimace.

Caramon shook his head. "No, I don't know what you are."

Flint stared at them in thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "Okay, I got one. Clue number two: I am _double-knit_. Does that help?

"No." Sturm shook his head. "Not much."

Caramon raised a brow. "Whaddya mean?"

"Well, then I'll give you one more clue," Flint sighed, "I know this is going to give it away and I hate to the Abyss to tell you this, but… Clue number three: … EST OTH MAROON!"

"Ahhhhh!" Both Sturm and Caramon cried out in understanding. "You're a _sofa_!"

Tasslehoff now laughed almost so violently that he was choking. Riverwind and Goldmoon looked at each other, wondering if this was something that they simply didn't practice among their people. Tanis, however, stared wide-eyed at them. Was there something seriously _wrong_ with his friends?

"Way back a long time ago, "—Sturm cut in again—"when the universe consisted of nothing more elaborate than Flint Fireforge—"

"Thank you, Sturm," Flint kenderishly piped in.

"—trying to convince each and every member of this extremely interesting group here tonight that he was nothing more, nothing less, than a fat, maroon sofa, suspended in a great emptiness, a light shined down from the sky. And there he was, folks, Draco Paladine. And he—he took a look at the sofa and he said to himself, 'Quite an attractive sofa… This sofa could be commercial—'"

"Thank you, Sturm," Flint piped in again.

"'—With a few more mugs of ale in the right company.' However, I digress. 'What this sofa needs,' said the big 'P', 'Is a bit of flooring underneath it.' And so, in order to make this construction project possible, he summoned the assistance of a celestial guild of masons and carpenters. And, by means of a cute little song in the Solamnic language, which is the way he talks whenever it's heavy business, Great Paladine went something like this…"

And here's where they got to hear Sturm Brightblade, the stoic warrior under the line of the Knights of Solamnia, actually _sing_.

"_Coni oc est parum contabulatatio,_

"_Suc mas obesa fluitarus ai sofa!"_

"Everybody!" Caramon cried, then he, along with Flint, joined with Sturm, all swaying with the beat of the weird little Solamnic song.

"_Coni oc est parum contabulatatio,_

"_Suc mas obesa fluitarus ai sofa!"_

Tas was howling and rolling around on the ground, tears of his laughter streaming down his face while his blue-clad legs kicked about him. It took all of his control to not accidentally kick one of the logs out of the fire and keep his tossing topknot away from the burning embers as he thrashed about. Goldmoon stared with her eyes wide with confusion, but was reluctant to say anything, while Riverwind kept his eyes averted.

Tanis had his hand over half of his face, fingers sprawled over his beard as he swallowed, mortified. His eyes were wider than Goldmoon's, and he wondered with serious dread what had happened to the three men now dancing by the fire.

"And, of course, ladies and gentlemen," Sturm continued, "that means, 'Give unto me a bit of flooring underneath this fat, floating sofa.' And, sure enough, boards of oak appeared throughout the emptiness as far as vision permits… stretching all the way from Balifor to Southern Ergoth. And Paladine put aside his huge pipe and hat, and proceeded to deliver unto the _charming_ maroonish sofa the bulk of his message, and it went something like this…"

The three began singing together another song in Solamnic, this one more absurd and strange than the first… if not longer. Tasslehoff was clawing at the ground, wanting to stop laughing but unable to do so (he had quite the sensation that he was splitting apart by the sides, and although it might be quite the interesting experience, he felt he really would rather keep his insides _inside_). The Plainsman and Chieftain's Daughter had given up understanding the ritual and decided to turn in for the night.

It was about this time that Raistlin finally returned, and the first thing he saw was his brother, the knight, and the old dwarf swaying with their arms over each other, singing the odd song. He stared for long moments at the scene, even tilting his head.

Tanis quickly rose and stopped beside the young mage, glad to see a person of reason again. "Raistlin! Something's wrong with them! Please, do you have any idea what could have happened to them to do this? They've been acting strange since you left!"

Raistlin seemed to consider the half-elf for a moment, and then again on the three dancing and singing by the fire. His brows lowered, and the gears in his mind undoubtedly turned as he considered the possibilities. Were they poisoned? Possessed? Had the things that they've experienced finally gotten to their minds? Then the magic-user groaned and shook his head. "_That_…"

"What?" Tanis felt dread claw up in him, fear for his friends. "What is it?"

"_That's_ what happened to all my spell components," he grumbled.

Sturm, Caramon, and Flint all began to slump to the ground, losing consciousness as the effects of the components finally wore off, still singing into the final lines of the song.

"_Huma, are you kidding me? Huma, are you kidding me? Huma, are you kidding me…"_

* * *

Now, go take some Ibuprofen for your head. 


End file.
